


The Tower

by Ylixia



Series: String Theory [1]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Coda, Everyone is fine, M/M, Skye Has The Best Timing, Spoilers for Episode: s02e09, The Science Babies Finally Talk, Ye Who Enter Here, fixit, get-together, internalized ableism, or cock it up even more, this gets jossed in three days but i don't care I'm not waiting for marvel to fix it, which is honestly more likely
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-07
Updated: 2014-12-07
Packaged: 2018-02-28 13:49:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2734877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ylixia/pseuds/Ylixia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mack gets better, but not completely.  Fitz takes a chance this time around, and that works way better.  Fitsimmons finally have that talk, but first there's yelling.  Everyone is going to be okay.</p><p>Promise.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Tower

**Author's Note:**

> Apparently i process pain by writing thousands of words of fixits to be jossed in like five minutes. Ah, well. Whatever happens, we'll always have this little verse where everyone actually talks about their feelings and it all works out :D

“That wasn't Mack,” Coulson says, and Leo dives to the side of the room where the other harnesses are neatly laid out before he can even think _the hell it wasn't._

“Fitz? Fitz, what are you doing!” Jemma is yelling at him from where she's kneeled next to Bobbi, a hand on her shoulder, and Leo ignores her as he steps into the harness, his hands fumbling over the straps and buckles.

“Fitz!” Coulson snaps. “I said _seal the tunnels_. No one's going down there, not when we don't know what happened.”

“No. No no, no no no,” Leo doesn't realize it's him at first, repeating the denial over and over as his hands shake and slip uselessly and his vision grows blurry. Hands, Coulson – Coulson's hands cover his own, stilling them, and he smacks them away viciously. “He – I'm not – he won't – No!”

He's lost all his words but that one, the one ringing denial, the utter, absolute _refusal_ to accept that Mack is... that Mack might be...

_No._

“Fitz, that drop is a hundred feet deep,” says Jemma in that terrible, awful gentle tone. It used to be soothing, didn't it? When she spoke to him like that before he remembers it used to sooth him, but now all it does it makes him want to scream.

“He was... he was strong and he kept – and and and he might... With the,” he shakes and growls with frustration and he _hates_ this, he hates how in the moments he needs words the most, in the moments where he _has_ to make them understand, they're scrambled and useless and immune to all his flailing need.

Mack understands, Mack would understand, or work him through it if he didn't, or stand there calm and steady and patient while Leo picked up all his scattered words and put them in the proper order but Mack is at the bottom of that hole and Leo wont leave him there he wont, he _wont._

“I'm not leaving him,” Leo bites out. It's the only complete sentence he's managed but it's the only one that really matters. He's not going to leave Mack, it's not going to happen.

“I'm going with you,” says Bobbi decisively, walking over to grab her own harness. Her face is steely and set and in that moment Leo is so, so grateful to her.

“ _No one_ is going down there,” Coulson shouts, sounding strained and frustrated. “We don't know what's down there, we don't know what happened, and if Mack survived he's dangerous and unpredictable – ”

“But he might have survived,” Bobbi says, as if that's all the information she needs to know, and she turns to help adjust Leo's harness.

“Whatever is down there, if it's alive, it isn't Mack,” Coulson says firmly, in that way that he has that isn't an argument, just the calm expectation that everyone will behave in precisely the manner he desires, if only he gives them the chance to do it.

Bobbi whirls on him. “You said there were no acceptable losses,” she hisses viciously. “You said, three million people on this island and you wont let them be collateral damage for Hydra. Well I wont let Mack be collateral damage! He is _not_ an acceptable loss!”

Coulson looks at her kindly, earnestly, immovable in the face of her pleas. “It's not acceptable,” he says gently. “But we've already lost him.”

“ _You don't know that!_ ” she shouts, vibrating with anger, and every word from her lips soothes Leo's jangled nerves. He may not be able to say the words, but she can, and he can focus on the checks he needs to do before they go down there. After Mack.

“Fitz, stop,” Jemma begs, anguished. Leo doesn't even look her as he collects another line for Bobbi. “You can't do this.”

“I'm not giving up on him.” Bobbi and Coulson are still arguing viciously off to the side. “I can't.”

“He attacked you, Fitz! He's not in his right mind, he'll – “

“He _knew_ me!” Leo yells over her. “He – saw. Me. Hesitated, I. We can _help_ Jemma, I have to help.” _It's my turn,_ he thinks, because all Mack has done since they met was help him, and it's time for him to return the favor.

“Don't!” Jemma shrieks, as Leo moves to clip Mack's line to his harness, not meaning to wait until Coulson is no longer too distracted to stop him. He's alarmed by the note of true panic in her voice. “Don't you dare, don't you dare throw your life away for his, _don't do that to him too!_ ”

“Jemma – ”

“Don't do that to him too!” she repeats, red-faced, her voice a shaking mass, tears springing in her eyes. “Don't s-sacrifice yourself and m-make him look at you in a hospital bed or, or worse a _coffin_ and think – and think – ” she breaks off, voice choked, and turns her back to him as she stutters into tears.

The room is silent for a moment except for Jemma's strained, muffled sobs, and all Fitz can do is look at her helpless and confused and scared, so scared.

“We're not leaving him,” Coulson says quietly into the silence, him and Bobbi apparently having come to some kind of agreement. “But we have to do this smart, I'm not losing any more people. We need to regroup, call for backup, and get more equipment down here.” He pauses, looking at all of them until one by one they nod in agreement.

“Bobbi,” he continues. “You stay here and keep watch over the entrance. No one and nothing goes in or out for any reason. _Any_ reason, do you understand me?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. Now – “

“I'm staying too,” Fitz says, voice as firm as he can make it. Coulson looks at him, lips pressed in a thin line.

“Fine,” he says finally, holding up a hand at Jemma's sound of protest. “But you're not going in after him, under any circumstances.” He levels the both of them a stern look. “I am putting my faith in you. I need to know I can trust you on this.”

Fitz nods immediately; Coulson has never let him down, never given him any reason to do anything other than trust him at his word. Fitz will stick with him, as long as sticking with him isn't a death sentence for Mack. Bobbie is slower to agree, but eventually she dips her chin once in assent.

“Good. Simmons, start putting together a list of everything and everyone we might need. This is top priority, we're hitting the ground running as soon as we get back to the bus. Understood?”

“Understood sir,” Jemma says, voice shaking.

Coulson looks at each of them for a moment, at his team, then says, “Let's get moving, we're on the clock.”

Simmons wont even look at him as she leaves.

And then it's just him, and Bobbi, and a giant gaping hole in the floor where Mack... Oh god, _Mack._

Leo's legs wont hold him up any more and he stumbles back until he hits solid rock and slides bonelessly down to the floor, staring and staring and staring at the black nothingness and seeing Mack fall, hearing him scream, over and over again.

His breath hitches, and starts, and tumbles into wrenching, broken sobs. “Oh god,” he says into his hands. “Oh god, oh god, oh my god.”

Bobbi sinks down next to him and puts her arms around him and they cling to each other and weep.

 

* * *

 

It's a mess, it's all a giant, bloody mess, but they get Mack. Mack is alive, and they get him back, and nothing else matters.

Nothing.

 

* * *

 

It's a week before Jemma is willing to risk waking Mack up. Leo spends nearly the entire week at his bedside and doesn't speak once. A couple of times Jemma looks at him like she wants to say something, but she never does, and the others seem content to leave him alone. Bobbi joins him rather often at his silent vigil and lets him sit pressed against her side, listening the the beeps and hums of the machinery as he tracts the readouts and tests obsessively.

He's surprised, at first, at how close Bobbi is sticking with him. It could just be for Mack but... he doesn't think so. He realizes he's been thinking of Bobbi as Jemma's and that's pretty ridiculous when he thinks about it, but the thought makes his eyes burn and prickle. He and Jemma used to share everything.

They wake Mack up behind the laser grid of Ward's old cell, which Leo finds unreasonably cruel, and they won't let him in the room, which is even worse. Leo curls up in a corner of the darkened garage and watches the security feed of the cell on his tablet, waiting.

Mack wakes bit by bit over the next half hour under Bobbi's watchful eye, until suddenly he takes in a huge gasp of air and jerks upright, breaking the cuffs that hold him to the hospital bed seemingly without noticing. Bobbi rises to her feet and says, tentatively, “Mack?”

Mack's head whirls around to stare at her, but Fitz can see through the feed that his eyes are all white, no hint of that terrible, deadly red. “Bobbi?” he asks softly.

The tension that's been with Bobbi since he fell drains away. “Yeah Mack. I'm here.”

Mack looks around the room, recognition and horror dawning on his face. “What did I do?” he whispers, clearly recognizing the space. “Oh Jesus, Bobbi, what did I do?”

“Nothing,” says Bobbi quickly, soothing. “Nothing Mack, nothing. This is just a precaution. We're still not quite sure what happened. What do you remember?”

“Everything,” he says wretchedly, climbing out of the hospital bed. The broken cuffs jangle around his wrists and he looks at them, alarmed, noticing them for the first time. “God, everything,” his face snaps up to meet her gaze. “Fitz?” he asks, low horror tinging his voice. Leo feels his heart give a heavy thud in his chest.

“Fitz is fine,” Bobbi says, walking forward. “Everyone is fine.” Leo can see her smile on the security feed, small but genuine, as she flicks off the grid keeping Mack captive.

That's all Leo needs. He rolls to his feet and is off like a shot to vault D, where they're keeping him – how could they keep him _there_ he doesn't _belong_ – listening to Mack ask about Simmons, Coulson, Bobbi herself, Bobbi reassuring him that they were fine, everyone was fine, he was the only one who was hurt.

When he gets to the stairs of the vault, Mack is hugging Bobbi and Bobbi lets out a strangled, pained noise. Mack lets her go and jerks back like he's been burned, staring at her in horror.

“Jesus, Bobbi, I'm – “

“It's fine!” Bobbi assures him quickly, but her voice is strained and she's holding her side like it pains her. “Mack it's fine, you're... you're just a little stronger now.”

“God,” Mack whispers, looking down at his hands. “God, oh my god, what happened to me? What – No!” Mack shouts at Bobbi as she tries to step closer, looking wrecked and fearful and guilty. “No, don't, I'm dangerous, I'm – ” he backs away and slumps down the wall, curling in on himself. Leo can see him shaking from across the room.

Leo rushes down the stairs, towards them. Bobbi is already crouching down next to Mack, wrapping her arms around him like she did for Leo at the entrance to the temple. Mack's hands are clenched into fists and pressed against his chest, keeping them from hurting anyone.

“Turbo?” Mack says shakily as Leo presses himself against his other side, afraid for no one other than Mack himself. “You shouldn't be here, I – “

“Shut up,” Leo says, because his brain is broken and scattered and he can't say _I'm so glad you're okay,_ or _I'm not abandoning you_ or _I'm not scared of you,_ so he just tells Mack to shut up again and presses more firmly against his side as Bobbi holds him. They stay there like that for a while, until Mack stops shaking.

 

* * *

 

It turns out that, among other things, the temple made Mack incredibly strong. To Leo's mind it's pretty redundant as far as life-altering changes go, but Mack is having trouble adjusting to the new strength.

He shatters glasses when he picks them up and breaks handles off mugs when he's not paying attention. The shards never hurt him. He's cracked the heavy wood of one or two of the doors from knocking on them, and he's broken more than a few chairs just by pulling them out and trying to sit on them.

He's an utter disaster in the garage, brow furrowed as he tries to concentrate on using a small fraction of his strength at all times, sometimes forgetting and twisting a head off a bolt or, in one memorable case, snapping a wrench in half.

The tiny remote controlled model of Lola is sitting on a high shelf in the far corner of the garage where Mack can't accidentally break her. Leo knows without asking that he hasn't even shown her to Coulson.

It's been familiar, if upsetting, to watch Mack struggle with a body that won't listen to him the way Fitz struggles with his mind. He wouldn't wish that kind of frustration on anyone, and Mack has grown distant and cautious in the few weeks since the temple in a way Leo's never known him to be. Everyone is looking at Mack with that same helpless, lost look they've been looking at Leo, like they want to help but have know idea how. Leo's got a pretty good idea what to do, though; Mack showed him, has been showing him, for months.

So when a piece of an engine clatters to the ground and Mack starts cursing a blue streak, Leo knocks on the doorway to announce his presence and asks, “Did it insult your mother?” in a wry, joking voice

Mack swears again and makes a movement like he's going to throw the socket wrench in his hand across the workshop, and then seems to realize that he's as likely to put it through the hull of the bus as anything else and sets it down gently. “Something like that.”

Leo smiles at him. Mack looks at him like he's not having any of it, but Leo won't be put off. “Come on,” he coaxes. “You've been in here for hours. Let's watch a movie.”

Mack shakes his head. “I need to get this done.”

“You're not going to get anything done like this. You... you're all worked up,” Leo says, and grins when Mack looks up at him. Mack's said the same thing to him a hundred times, and the role reversal isn't lost on him.

“Come on,” Leo wheedles, seeing Mack soften. “We've got, like... a half-dozen of those car chase movies left.”

Mack stares at him for a moment, then rolls his eyes and smiles. The sight of it lights Leo up inside; Mack's smiles are rare these days. “Alright, Turbo. Lead the way.”

Leo does, and when he puts on the movie he sits pressed up against Mack's side, closer than he's ever dared. He looks at Mack a little nervously, but the he doesn't seem to notice. Pleased, Leo pulls out a bit of string Skye gave him a while ago and starts slowly picking his way through a few easy shapes; tea cup, cat's whiskers, witches broom. He wonders what Mack thinks of Leo's sudden inclination to initiate physical contact, if he can see the realization that's resolved to determination in his head. Probably not; Leo's learned through bitter experience not to assume people can tell what he's thinking.

“What are you doing?” Mack asks, looking down at where Leo is rested in the crook of his shoulder. His arm is draped along the back of the couch, carefully not-touching, and he's looking askance at Leo's hands.

“Cat's cradle, Skye called it, although I'm not sure if it refers to string figures in general or just...”

“The game, yeah, I got that. I mean, why are you doing it?”

Leo looks up at him curiously. “She thought it would help. With my hands.”

“And does it?” Mack asks, looking skeptical.

“Yeah, actually. It's kind of tricky, and delicate.” Flick-flick-flick, and Leo pulls one sting back with his teeth and leans back against Mack's chest to look up at him like _See?_

Mack looks down at him dubiously, eyebrows raised. “What's that supposed to be?”

Leo drops the string. “Eiffel tower,” he says with a shrug

“That looks nothing like the Eiffel tower.”

“Yeah, I don't think so either, but that's what Skye said it was called.” Leo looks up at him with a sudden idea. “Do you want me to teach you?”

“No,” Mack says immediately, looking alarmed. “No, absolutely not.”

“Why not?” Leo asks. “It'll be good. It'll help with... control. And stuff.”

“Control and stuff,” Mack says flatly.

“Yes?” Leo says, not quite sure why Mack is being so resistant. “It's fun, and if you break the string it's not a big deal; you can just tie it back together or get a new – what?”

“You want me,” Mack says slowly, “To learn to control my strength with a game eight year old girls play at recess?”

“Yeah...?” Leo says slowly, wondering if this is a trick question.

Mack rolls his eyes and presses a hand against his face. “What is my life. Fine! Fine, teach me, whatever.”

Leo grins, triumphant, and shifts on the couch until he's facing Mack. It's kind of a disaster, teaching him the simple game. Leo stutters and fumbles over explaining it, and Mack breaks the string over and over until it's practically unusable, but it's fun.

When Mack breaks the string _again,_ he just laughs, looking bemused and amused and more relaxed than Leo has seen him since the temple, and instead of tying the string back into a loop Leo leans over and kisses him.

Mack lets out an _Mmph!_ of surprise and then an _Mmm_ of what sounds like appreciation and kisses him back, lips moving softly and gently over Leo's. Leo lets out a shaky sigh of relief, pressing closer against Mack and licking a little against his lower lip.

Mack gives a low rumble of pleasure and opens his mouth, wet and warm, deepening the kiss. Leo makes a soft, happy noise and cups his hands on either side of Mack's neck, shifting so that he's sitting sideways on Mack's lap. Macks hands come up to frame his hips and this is wonderful, this is _brilliant,_ so much better than the clumsy words that get stuck in his throat, so much better than sitting silent and _pining_ , so much better than anything Leo could have ever hoped for.

It's better still when Mack wraps his arms around him, pulling him close and – Ouch okay, a little too close, too tight. Leo thinks he can feel his ribs creak and he can't help the alarmed, strangled pained noise that pushes out of his mouth.

All at once, Mack lets go, breaking off the kiss and pulling his arms away to hold them up, palms out and fingers spread. “Sorry – “

“What? No, wait – “

“ – Sorry, Jesus, I'm sorry, Turbo.” Mack looks wretched, and won't look him in the eye. “We can't do this.”

Leo looks at him, confused and hurt. “But...” but everything had been fine, just a moment ago, and everything seemed great and wonderful and Mack kissed him _back –_

“I'm too dangerous,” Mack says roughly, still not looking at Leo, leaning as far back from him as the couch will allow. Leo wonders why he's not pushing him off his lap before he realizes that Mack is afraid to even touch him, right now. “I can't – I'll hurt you, and I just can't do that. I'm sorry.”

“You're not – “ Leo begins, protesting, but then cuts himself off. Telling Mack he's not dangerous sounds a lot like when people say Leo's not broken, or that he just needs some time; utterly unhelpful and in complete disregard of the facts. But that doesn't mean...

“See, yeah,” Mack says at Leo's pause, like he knows what Leo was going to say. “We can't, I'm s – “

“Shh.” Leo cuts him off, putting his fingers against Mack's lips. “I'm thinking.”

Mack's eyebrows shoot up and he gives Leo a very odd look, but he doesn't seem inclined to talk so Leo lets his hand slid down so that it rests on the warm curve where Mack's neck meets his shoulder.

No matter what people say, Leo is broken, no doubt about it. Assurances that he isn't, or that he'll get better, are frustrating and worse than useless. He can function now, sure, but he's hit a plateau and he knows it. What he needs now is workarounds, exercises, paying attention to what helps and what doesn't and doing more of the former and less of the latter.

Similarly, Leo supposes Mack _is_ dangerous right now. He's not used to his new strength and he keeps breaking things without meaning to, and it makes sense that there would be a danger of him breaking people without meaning too. Mack doesn't _mean_ to be dangerous, of course, but Leo doesn't mean to be broken either and what they mean to be isn't going to change what they've become.

Leo looks at Mack, head tipped, assessing. Mack looks back, curious, worried, a little sad. “Do you want me?” Leo says at last.

Mack sighs and looks down. “Turbo...”

“It's yes or no,” Leo presses, distantly wondering when he got to be so bold. “Do you want me?”

Mack looks back up at him, shoulders slumped. “Yeah,” he says softly. “Yeah, I do.”

Leo lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding. “Okay,” he says, unutterably relieved, because if Mack wants him then this... This is just an engineering problem, really, minimizing points of failure and maximizing effectiveness and Leo is still, after everything, brilliant at engineering.

If the problem is that Mack may lose control of his strength, then they just need to go about things in a way that minimizes the chances of him loosing control and arrange things so that if he does, it's not a disaster. Leo would need to be able to stop him quickly if he needs to in a way that they can resume... activities with a minimum of interruption. Fitz looks at Mack, and thinks, and feels an idea form slowly in his mind.

“Okay,” he says after a bit, shifting off Mack's lap so he can swing a leg over and straddle his hips. Kissing is probably easier this way anyway, facing head-on.

“What – “ Mack splutters, looking rather alarmed, but Leo ignores him.

“Here, your hands,” he grabs Mack's hands and puts them on his hips. “Keep them here, and don't move. If you squeeze too much I'll,” he taps against the side of Mack's neck three times, quickly, “that, and you know to relax. Don't stop, though,” Leo says sternly. “Unless I say so. Or if you uhm, want. Obviously.”

Mack stares at him, his shocked look giving way to some sort of smouldery expression that is making Leo nervous because he's not sure what it means. He knows what he _hopes_ it means, obviously, but he's never exactly been in this sort of situation before and he's always been kind of crap at people.

“Jesus,” Mack breaths, the tone of his voice making Leo squirm a little, not unpleasantly.

“Is that... okay?” Leo asks tentatively.

“ _Fuck_ yes,” Mack says fervently, and tips his head back. “Come here, baby.”

Leo grins, relieved, and leans forward to kiss him again. It's just as good as before, like they never even stopped. Mack is firm and solid and incredibly warm underneath him and _Leo_ doesn't have to keep his hands still, so he doesn't. He touches him everywhere, over the smooth skin and the swell of his muscles, touching in a way he's wanted to for so long, he hadn't even _realized_ how long.

Mack makes up for how he can't move with deep, rumbling groans that reverberate through his chest and against Leo's, making him feel desperate and shaky and hungry for more. Leo shifts his hips, grinding down a little against Mack's and oh. _Oh._ Leo's not exactly an expert, but that feels big, and hard, and he can't quite help the sound that comes out of his mouth, or the way he grinds more firmly against Mack. Mack's hands grip tight on Leo's hips, pulling him down against him, but Leo kind of likes it and doesn't do the tapping thing until a moment later when Mack's hands tighten again and it starts to hurt a little bit.

Leo tap-tap-taps against Mack's skin and Mack freezes, just for a moment, before loosening his grip and carrying on just as enthusiastically, if a little more carefully. Leo cannot help the way he grins against Mack's mouth, or the soft, happy noise he makes, because that worked perfectly, _his plan_ worked perfectly, an efficient, effective workaround for the problem at hand and Leo will never tire of the way that feels, especially –

There's a strangled, choked noise at the doorway to the living room.

“Oh – _God._ I... Sorry, I'm so sorry, I'll just – ” Jemma stammers, and Leo looks up to see a glimpse of her beet-red face before she turns tail and flees from the room.

Leo sighs heavily and drops his head on Mack's shoulder with a thump, heat rising to his face. Mack makes a sympathetic noise and brings a hand up to gently rub between his shoulder blades.

“So that happened,” Leo says despairingly.

“Sure did,” Mack agrees. “You gonna go after her?”

The very thought makes Leo's entire body seize up with anxiety, and he shakes his head emphatically into Mack's shoulder.

Mack sighs and lets his hand flop back onto the couch. “Wrong answer, Turbo,” he says tiredly.

Leo jerks back to look at him, surprised. “Wha – why?”

Mack sighs again and rubs at his eyes with one hand. “Look, you two are adults and it's not my job to play therapist or mediator or whatever. But if we're going to start this?” He makes a motion indicating the two of them. “Then you need to make things right with her.”

Leo furrows his brow. “How's that r-, re...”

“Relevant? Well, for one thing, I'm not going to let you use this thing between us as an excuse to avoid working things out with her.”

That hits uncomfortably close to home, putting Leo immediately on the defensive. “I'm not – “

“Secondly,” Mack says, talking right on over Leo's weak protests. He looks at Leo, his expression soft and affectionate “I care about you and I want you to be happy. I think you'll be a hell of a lot happier with your friend back.”

Leo leans back against Mack, tucking a hand up to pick at the front of Mack's shirt. Mack's hand comes up to slowly rub his back again.

“Aren't you...” Leo casts out for the word and Mack waits him out for it. “Jealous?”

Mack shrugs. “Why would I be?”

Leo frowns. He would be. He was, when Jemma and Trip would flirt with each other, when everything was going wrong and he was pining so terribly for her. He even gets a little jealous of Bobbi sometimes, both for her and Mack's easy affection for each other and the way Jemma clearly adores her. He's trying to be better about it, this time around, more mature, and he's mostly succeeding. Mostly.

Mack turns his head to look at him. “Should I be jealous?”

“What? No – “

“I understand if you still have feelings for her. You two have been through a lot together.” Mack says, his voice careful and even. “Do you?”

“No, I – why would? That's...” Leo stammers. He hides his face in Mack's neck, blocking out the world. He wants to deny it, say that he's completely over her, but he can't lie to Mack. “I don't know,” he says honestly, voice small.

Mack nods, then pauses before saying, “Leo. If you change your mind – ”

“No,” Leo says immediately, cutting him off. He sits up so he can look Mack in the eyes, because this is important. “I'm sure about this. You. I'm – ” he growls, frustrated, because this is so important, Mack has to understand, but he can't find the bloody _words._

“I'm _sure,”_ he insists inadequately, and Mack murmurs “Okay, okay, I believe you, Turbo, relax.” Leo slumps, agitated and relieved at the same time, and then Mack says, “But if you _did_ – “

“ _Mack._ ”

“Listen, this is important. If you do change your mind, ever, we'll still be cool. Okay?” He looks significantly at Leo until he nods, frowning. “I like you, so it may take me some time to adjust, but I'll always be your friend. No matter what.”

Leo smiles at him, because he knows that – he could never have taken the chance, otherwise – but it's nice to hear. Mack smiles back and Leo leans down and kisses him because he can do that, now.

Mack kisses him back for a brief moment before pulling away. “Now go talk to her. And I mean _talk,_ Turbo, until it's fixed. None of that “I'm leaving you for Mack” bullcrap you pulled last time, what was that even?”

Leo groans. “I'm bad at talking,” he whines and really, he's always been bad at talking. Now he's just _worse._

“Yup,” Mack says, unphased. “Do it anyway.”

Leo rolls his eyes, kisses Mack one more time, and heads off to look for Jemma.

 

* * *

 

Jemma appears to be very busily, very noisily, and very inefficiently making tea. Leo's not surprised; She likes to keep her hands busy when she's flustered, and tea settles her nerves if she's too worked up to go back to the lab.

Leo's kind of glad she's not in the lab. There's too much... everything, in a lab.

He pulls out a stool to sit at the counter and she whirls around like she's been electrocuted. Emotion passes over her face at the sight of him, too many too quickly for him to keep track of. She doesn't look best pleased to see him though. She's never really pleased to see him, anymore.

Leo hunches over the counter, unable to keep eye contact. “Hi.”

“Fitz!” Jemma exclaims, overbright and utterly false. Leo has no idea how she lasted five minutes at – no, now is definitely not the time to think of that.

“I've just put the kettle on. Would you like some?” she continues, turning to bustle about nothing. She can't look at him either, apparently.

“Yes,” Leo grits out, less out of an actual desire for tea and more out of a sense of obligation not to shut down conversation before it begins. “Thank you.”

Jemma startles, as if surprised, and Leo slumps even further. He has no idea what Mack expects him to do; they've grown so far apart, now. It's hopeless.

 _Do it anyway,_ Mack said, and Leo sighs.

“Look, Jemma –” he begins.

“What kind of tea would you like?” Jemma says quickly, opening the relevant cabinet. “Not too much of a selection, I'm afraid. I've tried talking to Koenig, but he won't have any of it. Some nonsense about a “frivolous drain on limited SHIELD funds.” Frivolous! I mean, _honestly_ – “

“ _Jemma,_ ” Leo says, cutting her off. “Look, I – We should... talk. About.” he huffs. “Things. Mack said – ”

“ _Oh?_ ” Jemma interrupts as she whirls around to face Leo, terrifyingly cheerful smile fixed on her face. “What did _Mack_ say? It must be important if _Mack_ said it, lord knows you never speak to me on your own, anymore.”

Leo stares at her, gobsmacked. “Jemma...” he trails off.

“Oh come now, out with it!” she coaxes, all forced cheer with an odd sort of manic gleam in her eye. “It must be good. _Mack_ probably has all _sorts_ of wisdom he's gifted to you, you certainly spend enough time with him!”

Leo stares at her, a thought blooming sluggishly in his brain. It doesn't make any sense, except... “Jemma. Are you... jealous?”

“Me?” Jemma exclaims melodramatically, pressing a hand to her chest. “ _Jealous?_ No, no, no. Why would I be jealous? Well, I guess some might be jealous if their closest friend in the world couldn't even look at them and spent all their time with someone else, but not me, oh no.” Her back is to him again and she's grabbing cups out of cabinets and slamming them on the countertop. The kettle starts to whistle and she slaps at the off button viciously. Leo stares at her with growing alarm.

“Why should I mind the fact that you can talk to him easier than anyone else, when it used to be that we were the only ones that understood each other?” She continues, her voice strained and bright. “Why should I mind that we've been by each other's side for years, and then you tell me you're moving out with him because you can't work with me? I mean, why on earth should I _care_ that you look at me like I betrayed you, on the rare occasion you can manage to look at me at all, after I tried to do what was _best_ for you, for both of us, but Mack nearly _kills_ you and barely a week later you're getting off with him on the couch – “

Leo splutters, shocked and hurt and indignant. “You didn't _want_ me!” he yells.

Jemma slams the mug in her hand on the counter. “ _How could you possibly know that?!_ ” she yells back, turning to glare at him. “ _I_ don't know that!”

Leo stares. “What?”

Jemma presses a trembling hand to her face. “How could I have known?” she says shakily. “We were friends for years. You never said anything, gave any indication that you wanted to be anything other than my friend, and my partner. We were... We had work. Science. You know how I get, caught up in some problem or mystery until all the world disappears. You're the same way, that's why we – ” She takes a deep, shuddering breath, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I never even thought about it, let alone... how could I have known?”

She looks looks up and too the side, blinking rapidly, and takes a few moments to collect herself before continuing.

“And then we were dying on the bottom of the ocean and you told me, you said I was _more_ than that to you. As if what I felt for you was _less_ because it wasn't romantic! I never knew you felt that way, I never knew and we were going to die and you just – “ A tear rolls down her face and she wipes at it angrily, crosses her arms and hugs them against her chest. “And then you almost died and you were in a coma and I couldn't eat, or sleep, o-o-or even breath and I – “

“ _Jemma,_ ” Leo says wretchedly, wanting to hug her, or comfort her, or _something._

“ _No!_ ” she shouts angrily. “No, you had your turn, this is my turn. After you woke up you were so... so frustrated and despairing and I knew, I _knew_ I was buggering it all up, I _knew_ I was making it all worse for you, but we'd never had to work at being us before. And then, and then we had to and I had no idea how, my whole world collapsed and I didn't know how to deal with any of it and I was dragging you down – no don't look at me like that, I was, you _know_ I was – and I just... couldn't.”

She wipes furiously at her face again and and starts to pace. “But no,” she says tartly. “I'm _horrid._ I broke your heart and abandoned you, never mind that I was _right._ ” she motions toward him. “You did get better, much better, without me. You still are.

“I know you're mad at me for leaving,” she says. “I know you hate me for it, but I was right. I was dragging you down and you were better without me. I just didn't – ” her breath hitches a little. “ – I just didn't think you'd be better without me _forever._ I didn't think that after all the years we've been friends I'd just end up being that girl who rejected you that time, before you got together with your _boyfriend_.”

“No!” Leo says, because that's not true, _none_ of that is true. “That's not – ”

“I didn't even know you _liked_ men!” she exclaims, just in time for Skye to walk into the kitchen and freeze at the sight of the two of them.

Leo flushes all at once, because he hadn't really had a chance to think about, well, _telling_ people, and now Skye's standing there looking at him, wide-eyed and shocked.

“Sorry,” she says, looking between him and Jemma. “Sorry, bad timing, I just. Um. Pop-tarts! Yeah.” she walks quickly across the kitchen and grabs an entire box of pop tarts from the cabinet. “I'll just – ” she turns to leave, pauses, and then turns back to grab a six-pack of beer from the fridge. “Yeah. Good talk. See you guys later.”

She goes, leaving a silence so awkward it's suffocating. Jemma's not looking at him, again.

“Sorry,” she mutters, at the same time Leo asks, “Does it bother you?”

Her head jerk's up. “What?”

Leo swallows. “Does it... bother you. That I like men?” he asks, looking away, not wanting to see whatever expression is on her face.

“No!” she gasps. “Oh my god, no Fitz, of course not!” He sneaks a look at her under his lashes, because she seems sincere. She walks over to him, reaching out a hand to touch him before apparently thinking better of it. Leo catches it before she can pull too far away, and tucks it between his cheek and shoulder.

Jemma looks at him as if she's going to cry, and then grips his other shoulder. “It does _not_ bother me that you like men. Not in the least.” her gaze drops and she continues quietly. “It bothers me that I didn't know about it.”

Leo blinks down at her. “What do you – Why?”

“We used to tell each other everything,” she says thickly. “Or at least, I did. Now I feel like I don't know you at all.”

Leo pulls her into a hug, and she goes easily. “I didn't know until – ” until after his hallucination of her clued him in “ – recently.” He swallows. “I've changed a lot, I think.”

“We've all changed, Fitz,” she says into his chest. “Everyone's changed.”

He presses a cheek against her hair and nods. “I don't hate you,” he murmurs desperately. “I could never. I love you. I'm sorry. I thought – I thought you'd given up on me. I shouldn't have given up on you.”

“No, you shouldn't have,” Jemma says, and they both laugh a little bit.

“Tell me we'll be okay,” she whispers after a long pause. “I don't care who you're with, or where you're working. Just tell me we'll be okay.”

Leo smiles and squeezes her a little tighter, because he can do that. That's easy.

“We'll be okay.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

**Author's Note:**

> I have a couple more stories in line for this timeline, keep an eye out for more String Theory fics if you're interested. I'll still write them regardless of how badly canon contradicts it.


End file.
